Monday, October 19, 2009

As I strive to perfect a method in the kitchen, the concept of seasonal variety has become a cornerstone of my burgeoning style. Outside obvious draws to seasonality - foods at the peak of freshness and all that - changing dishes frequently has become a clever remedy to one of my little quirks. I get bored easily. I've found that when the newness of a dish no longer excites me is when I start to see all of it's flaws and move to change it. This could be for a number of reasons. Perhaps I'm simply imagining these flaws or maybe complacency causes me to slip in the execution department. Whatever the case, seasonality has provided the perfect excuse to constantly change my menu in order to stay current with abundant ingredients, but also to cycle through myriad ideas I have floating through my head. At the same time, the importance of consistency and perfecting a particular method is not lost on me. It certainly becomes more difficult to truly perfect something when it's always changing.

I've defended the changing nature of my menu to others as well as myself by explaining that the freshness of ideas keeps me and the cooks excited and therefore focused on nailing the execution of something ever time it is ordered. I believe in this point very strongly, but have wondered about how to reconcile it with consistency and perfection. The proliferation of food carts in Portland has brought to my attention some extraordinary people who's businesses thrive - quite well - on the reputation of one thing. Day in and day out they make and sell the exact same dish. Superficially, this seems like my worst cooking nightmare, but there are some nuances to think about. While variety keeps me moving along, I have an undying desire to perfect each and every thing I make. I've realized the importance of repetition in regards to this goal and must admit that there is no better way to approach perfection than to cast aside all distractions and make that one dish over and over again until you know it inside out. How to combine these two seemingly disparate motivations I have then? I'm not sure there is a perfect answer for that. I try to refine all recipes and procedures to the point of perfection while a dish is on the menu, but can that measure up to the level of refinement in a dish that is always there, with nothing else to draw away my attention? Most likely not. I'm not sure I have what it takes to do the same thing over and over again with no variety to keep things fresh. That's why I got into the cooking game in the first place and why I seem to move around every few years. My love of variety vs. the desire to achieve perfect consistency is undoubtedly the greatest dilemma I'll ever face...with no end in sight...

Thursday, October 8, 2009

It's been quite a while since my last posting to the blog. None too many notable events have taken place in that time, but there have certainly been some profound changes to how things are rolling along in the kitchen. Since the bulk of my "staff" is just one other person and that person is relatively new (see earlier posting "The Search"), then you might say I have turned over my whole brigade and started fresh. It definitely seems that way. With the addition of a culinary school extern to the team for a short while, you might also say that my staff has doubled in size. The most obvious affect this has had on my life in the kitchen is an opportunity to take a little more personal time. I've been able to take off a little early on certain nights and even made plans to be out of town for an upcoming holiday weekend. When the extern had first arrived and proved to be competent enough for line cooking I was actually leaving early every night. This proved a bad idea, as I became very bored and had to pencil myself back into a cooking shift a few nights a week. I still do a fair amount of dish washing, but did you really expect me to give that up so easily?

With every new staff member my approach to management has evolved a bit, and with a near complete turnover such as the one mentioned above it has taken a leap, so to speak. This is due largely in part to the abilities and attitude of the new employees. I consider choosing those people over all the other applicants as one way in which I've become more competent over time. In the beginning I lacked the confidence required to run a kitchen efficiently. I certainly got the job done but little details were overlooked or forgotten. Those details are the difference between a great restaurant and all the others. When you are too busy or overwhelmed to notice or care that a few sesame seeds fell into your salt so are now scattered randomly in everything you season with salt (which I hope is everything, but at that point who the hell knows?), that means your priorities are not straight. It's a situation that even the best can find themselves in and I would argue that if you've never been there, you can't truly know the difference between "getting it done" and "getting it done right." Even with my dedication to getting things done the right way only, I was unable to deliver on that promise early in the game. My menu, schedule and general approach to organization were not as efficient as they could be. lacking confidence, the process of creating a dish became collaborative with everyone in the kitchen because I always had this nagging feeling that whatever idea I had must be wrong in some way. Don't get me wrong: input from your staff is great, but not when you are seeking their approval rather than fielding new ideas. As my staff has changed and I've been able to build confidence, the entire energy in the kitchen has shifted. For one, the menu and schedule and pretty much all the day to day minutiae has been revamped for greater efficiency. I know it sounds boring and unimportant, but picture for a second if you will the amount of energy and passion wasted when you are stressed out for whatever reason. Never underestimate the importance of working in a cool, calm and collected environment. The old cliche that professional kitchens are high stress environments and "if you can't handle that then get the fuck out," is totally bunk! Certainly pressure will bring out the best a cook has to offer, but it can't be external pressure derived from fear. It has to come from the inside. A cook has to use their own desire to perform well as a means for upping the ante. Stress and fear sap that ability. It has become my mantra to create the most stress free environment possible. Other things begin to fall into place. My increased confidence in dishes created has in turn given the cooks more confidence in those dishes. They have more desire to reproduce them well, more inward pressure to please the chef and themselves. Most importantly their vision is not clouded and their passion not sapped by yelling, cursing and fear mongering. Let the old kitchen cliches go and I promise you'll see more clearly...